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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25081174">meet me in our next life (and every one after)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/livj707/pseuds/livj707'>livj707</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>To the Moon Series (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, neil and eva share an orange and nothing else matters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:54:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25081174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/livj707/pseuds/livj707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a thousand moments, a thousand lifetimes, Neil and Eva's paths intertwine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eva Rosalene &amp; Neil Watts, Eva Rosalene/Neil Watts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. oranges</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time they meet, they're children.</p><p>He wanders into their kindergarten classroom on his first day of school wearing the most ridiculous yellow sweater she's ever seen in her life. It's dreadfully tacky and oversized, hanging off his small, gaunt frame like it was sewn for an adult instead of a child. It doesn’t seem like particular care was taken to prepare him for the day, his brown hair knotted and stuck up in the back. There's dirt on his nose and grass stains on his knees. Years down the line she'll try to remember the details, but it's the mustard yellow sweater that sticks out the most.</p><p>Eva's desk is at the back of the room, and she has to lean to the side to see him past the crowd of other students, watching him hunched uncomfortably with his eyes trained on the floor as the teacher delivers a clearly rehearsed introduction speech. He doesn't even feign a smile.</p><p>Neil is another quiet kid. Their classroom has plenty of those, Eva being one of them. She’s spent the entire year up to this point on her own, and that's okay, she tells herself. Her best friend is her older sister, Traci, and her mom and dad and grandma. She doesn’t need friends her age when she can’t relate to them anyways, and she’s perfectly content with being alone. Not to mention that she's the top student in class, and she has hundreds of golden stars and report cards to prove it.</p><p>And so she doesn’t think much of the new kid. And that could've been it, should've been it, and she wouldn’t have paid him any mind at all had her teacher not seated him next to her, asking Eva to help him feel at home.</p><p>She doesn’t want to. She works better in silence, and Neil Watts doesn’t know what that word means.</p><p>He introduces himself to her the moment he sits down, and she ignores him. <em> I know you are, weirdo.</em> He asks for a pencil a week in and she reluctantly offers one, the tiny, mangled one with no eraser at the bottom of her pencil case because she doesn’t care if she loses that one and she knows that when you allow your classmate to borrow something, you have to be prepared never to see it again. He tries to look at her answers during a test, and she hastily shields her worksheet from him, only barely deciding against ratting him out to the teacher. It's not really worth the effort.</p><p>After a few more attempts to reach out to her, he finally gives up, and the two submit to sitting aside one another in complete silence, each and every day. Eva, once again, regains her peace and quiet.</p><p>Days and then weeks pass, and at last the teacher begins their reading unit. Eva nearly bursts from excitement, eager to finally get through the books in her mother’s bookcase, plus the ones she received for Christmas last year, the ones made primarily of pictures, though books nonetheless. She picks it up quickly, mostly due to the hours of practice she already has under her belt.</p><p>Neil, on the other hand, struggles. </p><p>She sees him squinting out of the corner of her eye, holding the book so close to his face many of the other students start to chuckle. When he’s called upon to read aloud he speaks slowly, quietly, stumbling over the longer sentences and missing his fair share of punctuation marks. He fails at most tests and quizzes, bright red circles and lines littering his papers when the teacher returns them.</p><p>It annoys Eva. It's distracting. So one day, she takes it upon herself to teach him.</p><p>"How long have you been reading like that?" she asks him during their free reading time, observing the way he angles his book awkwardly to try and understand the written text. His cheeks redden, and he avoids looking at her when he answers.</p><p>"I don't know. I can <em> understand </em> the words, I just can’t...see them.”</p><p>“You mean they're blurry?”</p><p>He nods.</p><p>"Maybe you need glasses."</p><p>He perks up at this, eyeing her in confusion. "Glasses?"</p><p>"Yeah,” she says matter-of-factly, feeling slight superiority at her ability to diagnose the issue. “My dad has them. He can't see well, either."</p><p>He nods appreciatively, smiling at her. “Okay, thanks. I’ll try that.”</p><p>And so, Neil Watts shows up to school a week later with giant, rounded glasses that make the rest of his head look tiny in comparison. Eva doesn't have to focus too hard to notice the way his face reddens as soon as he walks in the door, the way he cowers and hides himself away to avoid the harsh gaze and snickers of the other students.</p><p>It hurts her because of how unfair it is, how familiar it is to her, being the main attraction at a disguised freak show, being teased and gossiped and whispered about.</p><p>So she vows to be his protector.</p><p>“Come on,” she says to him one day during a warm and sunny recess, dragging him by the sleeve away from the play equipment. “I want to show you something."</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Just shut up and come.”</p><p>She takes him out to the back field, avoiding the crowds of other children along the way. They duck behind various trees and densely packed shrubbery until they arrive at a wooden shed, overgrown with vines and weeds that twist and curl themselves around the weakened structure. Eva yanks the door open, hesitating to make sure none of the teachers are watching.</p><p>"Won't we get in trouble?" Neil asks nervously. She shakes her head.</p><p>"I doubt it. No one ever comes back here, and I've been doing it since the beginning of the year. We'll be fine."</p><p>She gestures to the door, and he enters first with Eva in tow. It's much cooler inside, the growth on the windows preventing most of the sunlight from filtering through. The interior of the shed smells like old wood and fresh grass, something like mold or mildew causing Neil to wrinkle his nose. They both sit down in the center of the floor, facing each other. Eva pulls out her lunchbox, while Neil slides a brown paper bag from behind him.</p><p>"I'm sorry they've been making fun of you," Eva says, opening her lunch box and laying out the snacks in front of her. "They'll get over it soon." She can't help but notice how meager his lunch looks in comparison to hers, how bare and, frankly, unappetizing. In a way it explains how thin and scrawny he is, but she doesn't think he's poor.</p><p>He shakes his head. "Nah, they've been making fun of me since I got here. The glasses just give them an excuse. They're too big, aren't they?"</p><p>Eva fakes a look of surprise "What? Of course not."</p><p>Neil stares, unconvinced.</p><p>She exhales. "Okay, fine. But you'll grow into them."</p><p>He shrugs. "Maybe. But what if I don't?"</p><p>"Then you'll have big glasses. So what?"</p><p>Eva lifts her orange from her lunchbox, thinks for a moment, then holds it out in front of him.</p><p>"Do you want half?" she asks politely. He smiles warmly, gently pushing his lunch aside.</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>She unpeels it and hands an even section to him, a small act of generosity in a room that is entirely their own. The world outside seems to shrink down into nothing, forgotten and insignificant.</p><p>And just like that, they're something like friends.</p><p> </p><p>She eats lunch with him, plays with him at recess, loses said recess privileges when she gets into a fight with a girl who tells Neil that his glasses make him look like an old man.</p><p>
  <em> They do, but that's not the point. </em>
</p><p>They ride the bus together and push each other on swingsets. When she gets the confidence to do so she invites him over after school, and her mother makes them both ham sandwiches with apple juice. She shows him her room and they build a fort out of pillows and blankets. He invites her to his house and they play video games and climb his tree house and pet the neighbor's dog.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t matter anymore that they’re both outcasts. It doesn’t matter that they still get made fun of. They have each other. That’s more than either of them ever expected to have.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"Eva?" her mother whispers one night from the dining room, a cool evening in early spring. Eva freezes from where she stands in the unlit kitchen, having snuck out of her room for a glass of water.</p><p>"Yeah, Mom?"</p><p>"Can you come here, please? I need to talk to you."</p><p>Eva's stomach turns uncomfortably. Her mother has never sounded so serious before. Is she in trouble?</p><p>She heads to the dining room and cautiously lowers herself into the chair in front of her mother, who sits with her hands folded atop one another, her hair frizzled and wiry. There are tear stains on her cheeks. Eva is wise enough, even at this age, to brace herself for bad news.</p><p>It doesn’t lessen the blow. Not even a little.</p><p>"It's about that friend of yours, Neil," her mother whispers, choking over her words. "There's been an accident."</p><p> </p><p>That's all it takes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i have nothing to say except i'm sorry</p><p>songs for this chapter:<br/>build a little world with me - laura shigihara</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. ballrooms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The second time, they’re still kids, but growing.</p><p>It's closing in on the end of May, and with it comes the most anticipated - or most dreaded, depending on who you are - high school event: prom.</p><p>The buzz in the air is palpable amongst angsty and hormonal sixteen year-olds, and no day goes by without the many discussions of plans for that sacred night, dresses and makeovers and dates and limousine rentals for the rich kids, because of course, it’s high school. It's the experience they've all dreamed of, the coming of age moment, the night that changes everything, for better or worse.</p><p>Neil is unaffected by all the commotion, unsurprisingly. He tunes all of this out like he tunes out any school event - homecoming games, carnivals, fundraisers, all of it out of sight and out of mind. School spirit is nonexistent. And he'd be the first to admit that ("I'm here because I legally <em> have </em>to be," he once told his best friend, Eva, to which she rolled her eyes in response).</p><p>Eva is similarly uninterested in the idea of prom, instead focusing on the upcoming exams and finals that she's gone crazy in stressing about. No part of her is willing to set that aside for a weekend of pointless schmoozing with other miserable teenagers who all feel equally terrible about themselves.</p><p>That is, until someone asks her.</p><p>Because of course, it’s high school.</p><p>“I just thought you didn’t care about this stuff,” Neil says to her in math class the week of the big day, sitting backwards in the desk in front of hers (a desk which isn't really his, but its true owner is always late anyways). It’s the only class they have together this year, and they were both silently worried it would tear them apart, though so far they’ve been keeping the friendship steadily afloat through their math and lunch periods. So far.</p><p>“I know," she responds defensively, arranging her notebook and pencils on her desk, both habitually and as a way of ignoring him. "And I <em> didn’t</em>. But that was before…"</p><p>"Before Sebastian asked you out," he says under his breath, glaring at the floor. "Yeah, I get it."</p><p>Eva frowns at him. "Why do you sound so upset?"</p><p>"What? I'm not." He tries to shift his facial expression into a less hostile one. "I just didn't think he was your type."</p><p>She scoffs. "I didn't even know you knew him."</p><p>"I <em> don't, </em>but...isn't he kind of a jock?"</p><p>"He's in Robotics club, for your information."</p><p>“Whatever. I’m just surprised you’d fall for a guy like that.”</p><p>She narrows her eyes at him again, and suddenly he feels like he's being interrogated. “What do you mean <em> like that</em>?”</p><p>He can tell that she’s staring at him, but the blare of the school bell rings rescues him from having to answer. Neil returns to his designated seat quietly, not turning back.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Traci places the final bobby pin in Eva’s hair, adjusting the stray curl that hangs loosely from her bun. “Oh, you look <em> beautiful, </em> Eva<em>.” </em></p><p>Eva beams, admiring her appearance in her bedroom mirror. She spent the entire week preparing for tonight, and it's all falling into place, starting with her attire. Traci did her hair as well as her makeup, which is minimal, but just enough to highlight her features (according to her sister, the real makeup expert). Her dress is pale yellow, knee-length with a wide skirt that twirls gracefully when she spins. For the first time in a long time, she feels…pretty.</p><p>And yeah, physical beauty is all artificial, and yeah, it doesn’t matter, but still. It’s a nice thing, feeling pretty.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re already going to your first prom,” Traci says with a nostalgic smile, lightly smoothing Eva's curl behind her ear. "I adored mine."</p><p>"Yes, and you've told me hundreds of stories," Eva groans. "I get it. Most <em> magical </em>night of your life."</p><p>Traci laughs sheepishly. "You'll see what I mean, trust me. Now, are you sure you don’t need a ride? I’m totally willing.”</p><p>“No, Sebastian’s picking me up.” This is one thing she's sure of; she pestered him endlessly the day prior to seal their plans, nailing down the exact time he was scheduled to arrive as well as the fact that he should call instead of knocking if he wants to avoid her mother harassing them with a camera.</p><p>"If you're sure. Have fun, Eva."</p><p>She smiles broadly. "I will."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He never shows up.</p><p>Eva waits for him, seated on the windowsill in her room, then right next to the front door, staring out the window in anticipation of his blue car pulling up. She waits ten, fifteen minutes, before calling him once, twice, once more.</p><p>And that’s when Sebastian finally calls her back, a quick, meaningless exchange that he hangs up immediately after. “I’m gonna have to cancel. Sorry.”</p><p>Disappointment takes up every place in her heart where excitement once was. She tries to swallow it, tell him that it’s <em> fine, </em>but then she whirls around and catches a glimpse of herself in the living room mirror, the spin of her dress, the hair that Traci spent over an hour on perfecting. The tears in her eyes, her own reflection becoming more blurred the longer she stares at it.</p><p>It isn’t fair. None of it is.</p><p>And before she has time to even think about it, she’s running out the front door and grabbing her worn bicycle from the garage, kicking off her uncomfortable heels before wheeling it to the end of the driveway. She rides as fast as possible down the near-dusk suburban street with crisp summer air rippling through her dress, loosening the pins in her hair until dark hair flows freely behind her. It's freeing, releasing. An angry and startling sob tears its way out of her throat, followed by a laugh that surprises her just as much, and for a brief moment she holds her arms out to her sides as if she’s hugging the universe, like she’s alone in it.</p><p>When she arrives, she hops off her bike and drags it to the backyard, laying it gently in the grass. He's on the second floor, though the roof is low, and she hoists herself onto it, making sure her yellow dress doesn’t get snagged or torn in doing so. And then she raps her knuckles against the window, not entirely sure what to expect but fully certain that he’ll still be awake.</p><p>It only takes a few seconds for Neil to pull the curtains open, sliding the window pane upwards. “Eva?” He says, concerned. “Why aren’t you at the dance?"</p><p>She tries to reply, but tears spill over her eyelids instead, and she throws her arms around him. She must look like a mess, barefoot in her prom dress, makeup smudged and running, hugging him tightly through his bedroom window.</p><p>"He didn't come,” she whispers, voice pathetic and shaking. “I'm such an idiot."</p><p>“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, hesitantly placing his hands on her back. She feels weak, and after a moment she pulls back, wiping her tears away with her arm.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t be. Here,” he slides his window open more, “come in.”</p><p>Eva slowly guides herself through the window, taking extra care with her dress, and he closes it behind her.</p><p>“I don’t mean to barge in like this,” she says as she seats herself awkwardly atop his bed. His room is dark and mostly undecorated, dresser and side table barren except his lamp and a few school books. The walls have a few photographs and posters, but nothing especially memorable, nothing important. Neil isn’t one for stuff like that. She’s known him since middle school. She knows this.</p><p>“I already told you, don’t apologize,” he responds, taking a seat next to her on the bed. “Now, what happened?”</p><p>And she tells him. Everything leading up to tonight’s events, the week she spent crushing on the type of person who told herself she'd never get involved with, the romance she was so sure was real and feels embarrassed at ever believing so. The phone call that ended everything in a blaze of anger and tears. Neil listens intently, rubbing her back whenever it seems like she’s about to cry again.</p><p>At the end of it, she feels better, somehow. Lighter.</p><p>She checks her phone at the end of her rant, noticing several well-meaning texts from her mother and Traci.</p><p>“Crap, I should call my mom,” she says, standing up and walking to the other side of the room. “Is it okay if I stay the night? I really don’t want to be alone.”</p><p>He nods. “Of course. My parents are making pancakes in the morning.”</p><p>She grins, ear-to-ear.</p><p>They spend the next few hours in his room, on his bed, eating popcorn and chips and ice cream while watching terrible movies on his retro television, voices and laughter low so as to not wake his parents on the first floor. She takes the rest of the pins out of her hair and lets it rest on her shoulders, still wavy and slightly damp from washing it earlier.</p><p>She doesn't mind it. It’s not the prom night she expected, but she wouldn’t change it for the world.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She’s embarrassed to realize she fell asleep on top of his bed when Neil shakes her awake, whispering something she can’t quite understand.</p><p>“What is it?” she asks, sitting up while rubbing her eyes. It’s still dark outside, and according to his alarm clock she only slept for two hours.</p><p>“Come on, I have something to show you.”</p><p>He leads her quietly and carefully down the stairs, through the house, and to the darkened garage, closing the door behind them. She follows him despite her confusion, her body still adjusting to being awake.</p><p>"What are we doing here?" she asks.</p><p>"Just trust me."</p><p>He counts down from three and flips the light switch.</p><p>The garage is illuminated in purple and blue, colorful lights strung from the concrete ceiling. The floor is clear and clean, the room decorated in brightly-colored streamers and confetti. There’s a long and elegant table to the side, covered in snacks and drinks, and a stereo at the far side of the room. </p><p>"Neil, what-"</p><p>“Since you didn’t get to go to prom, I thought I’d bring the prom to you.”</p><p>Eva is rendered speechless, gaping at the room before her, the array of lights and adornments.</p><p>Neil shifts so that he's standing in front of her. “Hold out your arm.”</p><p>She blinks. “What?”</p><p>“Just do it.”</p><p>She tilts her head, but obliges. He takes her hand and slides something over her wrist - a corsage, made up of white and gold flowers.</p><p>She starts to question him, when he takes a subtle bow, holding his hand out to her.</p><p>“Eva, will you go to prom with me?”</p><p>She carefully surveys his outstretched hand, his posture, the corsage on her wrist.</p><p>Delicately, she places her hand in his.</p><p>He guides her to the center of the room before pressing play on the stereo, prompting a slow and steady melody to begin playing behind them. Eva rolls her eyes as he takes her hands and spins her around like a ballroom dancer, her skirt twirling against her knees.</p><p>"This is the dumbest thing you've ever done," she says, though her heart swells from the pure thoughtfulness of it all.</p><p>"I'll take that as a compliment."</p><p>The lights above them flash and sparkle, the music encasing the room and sending vibrations through the floor.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yes, I’m in love </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Who looks at you the way I do? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When you smile, I can we know each other very well </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How can I show you I’m glad I got to know you? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It's just as cheesy as the real thing, she thinks, all the glitz and the gleam and the showmanship, the spin of her dress and the flower on her arm. She laughs when he throws out the most dramatic dance moves, and he smiles in satisfaction as she does so, a clear sign that he's trying to cheer her up. There's no disco ball above them but there might as well be, and they're alone in the embellished garage but she knows deep down that it would feel that way even if there were hundreds of other dancers alongside them. The melodic hums from the stereo fill the room, a sweet and somber serenade.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I need your love </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I want your love </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Say you’re in love with this guy </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If not I’ll just die </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Why did you do all this?" she asks as the song comes to a quiet conclusion, resting her arms around his neck in true teenage slow dance fashion.</p><p>He shrugs. "To make you feel better. Did it work?"</p><p>She nods, smiling softly and resting her head against his chest as the previous song is replaced by an upbeat and jubilant one.</p><p>The rest of the night passes just as effortlessly. As they dance badly to 70s and 80s music, in the safe haven of their secret ballroom, she finds herself actually dreading the moment the night ends, the moment it comes to a close. It eventually does, the last song in Neil's playlist leaving a melancholic silence in the room.</p><p>“So, be honest…" Neil begins as he turns the stereo off, "was that better or worse than actual prom?”</p><p>Eva shoves his shoulder jokingly. “Are you kidding? <em> So </em>much worse. Somehow your DJ skills were worse than whatever whacko they hire for our school. And I hear that guy is pretty bad."</p><p>“Oh, really?” Neil says with a grin.</p><p>“Yeah. And the decorations? Clearly the work of one person. Don’t even get me started on the food selection…”</p><p>“Wow. This criticism cuts a little deep, Eves.”</p><p>“Good," she says, crossing her arms. "Maybe it’ll humble you.”</p><p> </p><p>For the record, it was better. So, so much better.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Eva doesn't forget that night.</p><p>Years after graduating high school, the two of them slowly drift apart, differing goals leading them on separate paths. Maybe they'd stay in contact if they were dreamers. Less stubborn, less grounded in their sour, pessimistic ways. But Neil never forgets, and Eva doesn't, either.</p><p>It never even occurs to her to ask him why he had bought a corsage in the first place.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>songs for this chapter:<br/>ribs - lorde<br/>this guy's in love with you - herb alpert &amp; the tijuana brass</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. montages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>And then they meet again, and again, and again.</p><p> </p><p>First year of university, freshman year. Both science majors, students with a whole lot of debt and not a lot of sleep. She sits behind him in a lecture and he returns the notebook she left behind. They get coffee after class, bonding over their mutual hatred of vain professors and aggravating classmates, sharing notes and study tips. They see each other at a party both were dragged to, wake up hungover and full of regret the next morning. They graduate four years later and she never sees him again.</p><p> </p><p>A fender bender in their late twenties. She runs into him at a stoplight the morning after a late-night study session, eyes blurred and itching and red-rimmed. She's remorseful, he's annoyed but otherwise forgiving. They deal with it accordingly and go their separate ways, to their separate lives, never fully knowing what they left behind.</p><p> </p><p>They've seen each other in the streets, at restaurants, in obituaries, eyes scanning over the names and faces that shouldn't feel so familiar, because there's no reason for them to be, but they <em> do. </em>Because there's something about the brown eyes or the glasses, the infuriating charm or the stubborn attitude, that tugs at the innermost of their memories, something nostalgic and unexplainable, something raw and real.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Why does such a connection exist? Why are they so inexplicably drawn to one another, so compelled to see and feel and learn and love?</p><p> </p><p>What is the groundwork for a phenomenon so marvelous, so remarkable?</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>"I feel like we've met before," he says to her in one of these many, many lives, sprawled out on the hood of a car while watching the stars fade, seeing the sky turn from deep blue to cyan to golden as the sun rises before them. They’re adults, both in the science field in some way or another, but there’s something missing, something neither of them can quite place.</p><p> </p><p>She looks at him and understands, maybe not completely, but somehow she understands, because she knows his eyes too well to have seen them in this timeline only. Because their humor aligns like pieces of a puzzle. There must be a separate universe where they exist, a hundred universes, thousands of moments spliced side-by-side.</p><p> </p><p>And she nods. “We have. I know we have.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>songs for this chapter:<br/>just breathe - pearl jam<br/>saturn - sleeping at last</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. partners</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The third, or maybe hundredth, or maybe thousandth time they meet, they’re partners.</p><p>Eva perseveres through high school, then university, then grad school to earn an office at Sigmund, one with her own personal silver plaque next to the door. It’s been her lifelong dream, and it’s everything she could’ve hoped for and more.</p><p>Her one complaint? The teamwork attitude.</p><p>She was okay with having a partner. At first. But the girl was so <em> nosy, </em> so obsessed with Eva’s personal life, not to mention the amount of drama she managed to stir up in the offices, despite only working there for a few months. And then she quit, out of the blue, “moving on to bigger and better things” from what she told everyone. It didn’t really matter. Because Eva was alone, finally, and she could <em> breathe. </em></p><p>That is, until...</p><p>There’s a knock on her office door, which then creaks open. Her boss sticks her head in, waving her arm towards the hall.</p><p>“Eva, the newbie is here. C’mon, I want to introduce you two.”</p><p>Eva shakes her head, bracing herself for the inevitable. “I already know what you’re about to say…”</p><p>“What? That I’ve assigned him to be your partner?”</p><p>“Paula, how many times have I told you I don’t need a partner?”</p><p>Despite her reluctance, she guides Eva out into the hallway and towards the entrance of the building. “And how many times have I told <em> you </em>that I’m not sending one of my best into the machine without someone there to watch her back?”</p><p>“I don’t need anyone watching my back,” Eva insists. “We’ve been over this.”</p><p>“One day, you’ll realize it’s nice having someone looking out for you."</p><p>Eva groans, though doesn't argue further. Deep down, she knows it's pointless to try to dodge the whole <em> partner </em>thing, a strong company mandate. She can only hope her new one isn't as insufferable as the last.</p><p>The two women emerge into a large, dome-shaped room, bustling with activity. Dozens of people in lab coats pass in front of them, and still it’s easy to notice the stranger as soon as her eyes land on him.</p><p>Maybe she’s just fairly used to the environment of Sigmund, having worked here for nearly a year, and any new face is conspicuous amongst the sea of old ones. Or maybe it’s the way he stands, carefully and awkwardly like he’s pretending to camouflage himself. He’s leaned on one leg, crossing and uncrossing his arms as if unsure what exactly to do with them. He readjusts his glasses as they approach, glancing at Paula first, then at Eva.</p><p>“This is Dr. Neil Watts,” Paula says as soon as they stop in front of him. “Neil, this is Dr. Eva Rosalene.”</p><p>Dr. Watts holds his hand out, and Eva promptly takes it.</p><p>“Nice to meet you,” he says. There's no smile on his face, which instantly rubs her the wrong way. <em> Way to introduce yourself as an asshole. </em></p><p>"You too," Eva says, though she's certain the opposite is true. "Here, I’ll show you to your office."</p><p>They return back through the entry hall and to the thinly spaced corridors, Eva proudly leading the way and Dr. Watts dragging behind. It's hard enough to squeeze past the many workers littering the place, and she feels the need to constantly glance behind her to make sure he's keeping up. She scoffs. <em> Already off to a bad start.  </em></p><p>"So...what made you decide to work for SigCorp?” Eva says after a minute or two, attempting small talk amongst the tense silence.</p><p>“Well, I just left Hermann."</p><p>“Worked for the enemy, did you?" she replies, eyebrows raised. It's not what she expected, but she tries not to let it cloud her already foggy judgment. "Well, try not to mention that too loudly around here. Some of the people around here don’t take too kindly to newbies as it is."</p><p>"I'll keep that in mind."</p><p>"Any reason you left?”</p><p>"Honestly?"</p><p>They reach the elevator and step in, the heavy metal doors trapping them in a much quieter atmosphere. Eva nods, prompting him to continue.</p><p>“It seemed like they didn’t care about the patients at all," Dr. Watts says, directing his gaze at the elevator doors. "It was all about getting the job done. As fast and as conveniently as possible. All they cared about was their reputation.”</p><p>Admittedly, Eva understands that. And she respects his choice to leave, no matter how much these corporations preach loyalty above all else.</p><p>They walk until they're outside Eva's office, and she gestures to the door across from hers. “Well, here it is.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>“No problem. And hey, one more thing," she adds before he enters his office, leaning in slightly. "I'm the memory traversal agent. When we’re on the job, I want you to listen to me. Got it?”</p><p>“Got it, Sergeant.”</p><p>She narrows her eyes. <em> Smartass. </em>“I mean it. You do what I say, when I say it, and we won’t have a problem.”</p><p>“Are you always this bossy?”</p><p>She snickers. “I consider that a compliment.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>Eva didn't realize how easy it is to become the outcast again.</p><p>If her group of friends was small before, it's nonexistent now, the few companions she's managed to gain on the job slipping right through her fingers. Nobody reaches out to her anymore, and when she wants something it's a hassle to find someone who will actually respond to her. She's surrounded by whispers and dark looks when she passes through the halls, crowds immediately separating when she approaches them. The whole thing is so <em> high school </em>it's ridiculous.</p><p>She was just doing her civic duty. That's all it was. When another agent abuses their power, especially so drastically, that person deserves to be fired. It doesn't matter if he's one of their own. It doesn't matter if he's "been working for Sigmund since before you were <em> born, Eva.</em>"</p><p>Nobody else seems to agree, though.</p><p>She's given up trying to assimilate into the dining hall, choosing instead to spend her lunch hours in the safety of her office. It's pathetic, really. She doesn't know what she's more embarrassed about - the juvenile way she's been dodging her coworkers or the fact that she even cares <em> at all </em>that they think differently of her. It shouldn't matter, right? She's always worked alone, always survived alone.</p><p>During lunch on a particularly lonely day, a shadow appears in her line of vision, in the hallway just near her office door. She groans, preparing for the worst.</p><p>"If you're here to criticize me, my lunch period lasts until 1:30."</p><p>"Well, in that case, I'll have to add it to my schedule. How's 2 sound?"</p><p>Dr. Watts leans against her door frame, and Eva relaxes the tension in her shoulders, though peers past him in fear of any eavesdroppers.</p><p>"I saved a seat for you at lunch," he says, gesturing lightly towards the dining hall. She snorts and returns her attention to her meal, wondering how much he even knows about the ordeal. He must've heard <em> something, </em>but clearly the fact that he's here means he doesn't hold anything against her for it. Or maybe he's managed to remain blissfully ignorant, and their casual but friendly partnership will fizzle out as soon as he finds out about her wrongdoings.</p><p>She finds herself praying for the former.</p><p>"Yeah, I thought I'd preserve the peace," she replies coldly.</p><p>Dr. Watts glances behind him just as she had, then steps into her office and closes the door slightly, lowering himself in the seat in front of her.</p><p> "Listen, this goes without saying, but...you did the right thing. And, you know, I got your back." He gives her a soft smile. "Partners and all."</p><p>Relief fills her at once. "Thank you. Really, that means more than you can know."</p><p>"If you don't mind me asking," Neil continues, voice a bit quieter, "what exactly happened? I mean, I know you got Dr. Sinclair fired...not saying he didn't deserve it," he adds quickly, "but-"</p><p>"He knew his patient," Eva interrupts. She pauses, then clears her throat before continuing. "He knew his patient. Quite personally, I may add. That's why he jumped at the chance to take her case. He...modified her memories to favor him. She wanted to die happy, a solution to her financial problems, and he stuck himself into her narrative. Made himself out to be some savior. I don't know. Guy has a huge ego. Always wanted to be the hero." Eva shakes her head, resting her elbows on her desk. Suddenly she doesn't have much of an appetite.</p><p>Neil whistles. "Wow."</p><p>"You're telling me."</p><p>"And you found this out...how?"</p><p>Eva turns to him. "It's not hard to access the machine's programming history when you've been working with the equipment as long as I have. I knew something was up with the way he talked about the case, and when I figured out he knew the patient...I had to check it out."</p><p>"Doesn't the boss care? That you went digging around like that?"</p><p>"Well, she didn't fire me. That's certainly a blessing."</p><p>Another figure appears in the doorway, accompanied by a light knock; they both turn their heads to see the blonde taking an uncertain step into the office, smiling in greeting. </p><p>"Hey, Eva," the woman - Eva thinks her name is Roxanne Winters - says with a small wave. "And...it's Neil right?"</p><p>Dr. Watts raises a hand in confirmation.</p><p>"I hope I'm not intruding on anything work-related," she says politely. "I just wanted to say that...well, I support you through all of this. And so does Rob. You know, Dr. Lin."</p><p>"Who, that old grump?" Eva says, remembering how dismissive the older man had been ever since she joined Sigmund. Then again, she's never seen him smile at anyone before.</p><p>"Hey, that's my partner you're talking about!" Dr. Winters replies, though a laugh tells Eva she's not actually mad. Banter, she thinks. It feels nice. "Trust me, he's a huge softie deep down."</p><p>"Not enough of a softie to tell her in person, apparently," Dr. Watts says under his breath.</p><p>Dr. Winters rolls her eyes. "Anyways, you did the right thing. I've known Sinclair a long time, and it was only a matter of time before he got himself fired. Besides, there's drama at Sigmund every damn week. All of this will blow over eventually, trust me." She hesitates, then takes a step forward to place her hand on Eva's arm.</p><p>Eva smiles in response. "Thank you, Dr. Winters."</p><p>"Call me Roxie. And it's my pleasure. If you need anything, I'm right down the hall."</p><p>When she leaves, Eva expects Neil to follow her, but instead he remains seated, sifting through some of the scattered work files on her desk.</p><p>“Well, did you need something?" Eva asks, only realizing how rude the words sound once they're out of her mouth. Luckily Neil doesn't seem to take it harshly, and he shrugs casually.</p><p>"If it's alright with you, I thought I'd keep you company," he replies. "I never liked how loud the dining hall was anyway."</p><p>It feels like a lie, or part of one. Yet Eva grins, grateful for the companionship he's offered her, even if it's only a temporary thing. However, a second glance tells her that he came in her office empty-handed.</p><p>"Don't you have a lunch?"</p><p>His eyes widen, and he glances down at himself, as if a meal will spontaneously appear in front of him. "Ah, must've forgotten it at home."</p><p>She reaches toward her purse, sifting around for her wallet. "Do you need to borrow money?"</p><p>Neil shakes his head. "Nah, don't worry about it. The food here is questionable at best."</p><p>"Come on, you have to eat something. I can't have you crashing when we're on a case." She searches her lunch for something suitable, something he'll accept without a fuss, then holds out an orange.</p><p>He shakes his head. "I can't accept that."</p><p>"Oh, you're so damn stubborn. Take half, at least."</p><p>He sighs, finally relenting. "Okay, fine. If it'll make you happy."</p><p><em> It will. </em>She peels it open and hands him half. He accepts it with a gracious smile.</p><p>The fruit tastes remarkably sweet on her tongue, filling her body with a strangely familiar kind of warmth. For whatever reason she wants to laugh, laugh wildly out loud, express her joy in any way she physically can. And when she meets Neil's eye she has the tiniest, <em> fleeting </em>feeling that he feels the same way as she does, the same unexplainable rush of elation.</p><p>They finish the orange, they toss out the peel. They talk about their next case.</p><p>The orange is a mystery to be solved, but she won't bother to. It's sweeter that way.</p><p> </p><p>Things feel right, for once.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>how bout that rosawatts wedding huh</p><p>songs for this chapter:<br/>the night we met - lord huron<br/>i will follow you into the dark - death cab for cutie</p>
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